


Lullaby

by Achrya



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Introspection, Pregnancy, wanda's powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked:<br/>Imagine Person A rubbing and singing to Person B's pregnant belly while they are sleeping.</p><p>"Natasha is not always love or brightness, far from it. She is often worry, a storming swirl of sobering concern and prickling fear. She is hope and want and appreciation and a swell of gratefulness so deep that it brings tears that she cannot hope to explain to Wanda’s eyes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Just a prompt I saw and answered. I'm lowkey Wanda/Nat trash. 
> 
> http://otp--prompts.tumblr.com/post/132161470541/imagine-person-a-rubbing-and-singing-to-person-bs

Wanda is getting used to people touching her swiftly growing belly. She isn’t sure she cares for it, unused to a world where people other than Pietro care about her let alone are inclined to touch her so casually, but she accepts it for what it is. 

There is so much in all of the touches, a lingering warmth and a rush of emotion that she can feel in her bones. She does not want to deny her babies that feeling. One of them, she knows, is like her, full of crackling energy and insight, able to feel that wash of affection that comes from their family. She hopes that one is able to project to the other and that they can tell how loved they are.

Pietro is there more than anyone except Natasha. He is nervous and overprotective as she gets bigger, awe struck as the babies grow, and so full of frantic single-minded love when he touches her that it’s almost too much to bare. Bucky follows after him most of the time, brings a slow cool levity that keeps Pietro calm and helps divert some the brightness that overflows from him. Bucky’s care for the babies is a cautious nervous one; he is less inclined to touch, too afraid to hurt. 

Clint and Laura and their children bring another kind of family love, though more tempered than PIetro’s. They’re older, tired, stretched out, and yet have so much room for other people. Room for her babies. 

The Vision is endless curiosity and delight at the forming of life and in the anticipation of what comes next 

Sam and Steve are pure excitement and when they’re close she gets caught up in that rush along with them. It’s impossible not to, together they’re like the tide with their feelings and it’s impossible to deny so she floats along. There’s optimism there and a kind of wanting but not for what she had exactly, but what they could have together but are afraid to speak of. She imagines they whisper to each other at night about how busy they are, how dangerous their lives, and all the things that make life hard for people like them.

Thor is a crackle and pop over her skin and a sense of suspense, like waiting on the edge of a storm. He tells her that she’s carrying tiny warriors and he’s so serious and solemn that she can’t help but believe it. (Natasha scowls and huffs; no fighting for these two.) 

And Natasha. 

Natasha is not always love or brightness, far from it. She is often worry, a storming swirl of sobering concern and prickling fear. She is hope and want and appreciation and a swell of gratefulness so deep that it brings tears that she cannot hope to explain to Wanda’s eyes. Natasha touches her stomach, rough pale hands curved over the olive of her skin, and there is so much…potential. A world opens up before her and Wanda sees all the things Natasha wants for them, feels them spreading over her skin and sinking into her. 

When she wakes up at night to Natasha stretched out next to her, red hair shining softly in the light from their window, palms flat against her stomach and fingers curled just so as if to protect what lies inside from all the things outside, it is so much. It makes her heart ache, and break, and rebuild itself a hundred times. It makes her head swim and eyes burn and fingers itch to reach out and pull the older woman closer, to curl around her and protect Natasha from the world. 

She could, if she wants. She could wrap them all up and not just protect them, but give them the world. No more worry, no more fear, no more nightmares for Natasha or Pietro. She could erase the terror the world brought them and leave only the good. It would be a beautiful terrible thing and the power is there, just inside of Wanda, sleeping. 

Waiting.  

When her wife sings so softly, lips brushing against the swell of her belly, it is so much, but not too much. Under everything there is something small and bright, something Natasha holds tightly, cradles inside of her, that belongs only to their babies. 

Wanda thinks if she changes the world it would go away. 

She touches Natasha’s hair then settles back to sleep again. 

**Author's Note:**

> You might be wonder: Where is Bruce? ...idk, Fiji?  
> Where is Tony: ...Somewhere not touching Wanda.


End file.
